Russian Roulette
by 1seddiefan
Summary: One gun. One bullet. Six chances. That's how you play Russian roulette. That's how Russian roulette aways been for Stiles. He always was fascinated by Russian roulette ever since he was young. He picked up the habit after Scott had been bitten by a werewolf. One-shot. Might be OOC.


A/N: Stiles doesn't have a crush on Lydia in this.

* * *

Stiles had been seven years old when he found his dad's gun. It was big and dangerous in his mind. He had seen shows where somebody pointed a gun to somebody's head, so he held the gun to his temple. He pulled the trigger and nothing happened. His mom had walked in at that moment to see her son holding the gun to his head. She freaked out and made him pinky promise to never tell his dad about it. He promised and his mom put the gun up, in a high place so Stiles couldn't reach it.

After he turned eight, he missed his mom badly after he found out she died. He found his dad's gun and pressed it to his temple. He tried not to think about the bloody mess his dad would find him in, so he pulled down the trigger, and nothing happened. He frowned, thinking 'I'm not going to die tonight.' Stiles put the gun and left, not looking back, and promising himself to never hold the gun to his head again.

Stiles broke that promise at sixteen, after Scott got turned into a werewolf and the lies he made himself tell his dad. He held his dad's gun to his head, looking at himself in the mirror. He wasn't sure how long he stood there, but he pulled down the trigger.

_CLICK!_

The sound of the gun not going off echoed through the bathroom. He sighed.

"Not today either." He said to himself and left the bathroom to put the gun where he found it.

It was after witnessing the mechanic getting smashed to death, he found himself holding the gun to his head, sitting crossed-legged on his bed. He was trying not to let any tears fall. He wanted everything to end. He couldn't handle lying to his dad and it felt like his best friend Scott isn't his friend anymore. He couldn't handle the bullying that Jackson was doing to him. He could still hear the insults Jackson said to him.

_Cut my life into pieces_

_I've reached my last resort,_

_Suffocation, no breathing,_

_Don't give a fuck_

_If I cut my arm bleeding,_

_Do you even care if I die bleeding?_

Stiles heard from his iPod. He had set it on shuffle and the song choice came up. He wanted something to get the sound of bones and crying for help to get out of his head.

It was ironic. But he wouldn't go that far to cut himself. _Then again, I'm holding a gun to my head._ Stiles pulled the trigger and the click came from the gun. He spun it again, and pressed the gun to his head. He pulled the trigger and nothing again. Stiles sighed. _Not my time today is it?_ He left his room and put the gun back up. He'll try again later.

He was back in the same place, holding the same gun, the same song coming from his phone this time. This time it was after Erica had hit him with car parts and he woke up in a dumpster after she tried to seduce him. Two more tries with the gun and got the same results, nothing. Stiles groaned. _Today isn't my lucky day is it?_ Stiles got up and put the gun back where found it again.

Stiles got bored of going to his room, so he stood in front of the bathroom, same gun and same song. Just on a different day. He watched his reflection in the mirror point the gun at his head.

He tried to ignore the image of Derek in the swimming pool, drowning. He was mad at himself, for it. If he just ran away like Derek said, it wouldn't have happen. Stiles wondered what gave everybody the right to turn into assholes after being bitten by werewolves, like Erica and Isaac. Okay, Isaac wasn't that bad, but still what gave him the right to ask him 'how can he still live'? But he hated what Scott became. Scott's girlfriend problems are immature compared to Stiles', but he couldn't complain. That'll be selfish of him to complain.

He pulled the trigger once and then he pulled the trigger again, a few seconds later, and he got nothing. _God must really love me, if I keep living._ Stiles mocked in his head and put the gun on the counter. He rested his head on his arms. He sighed.

This time he was locked in the bathroom again. He had gotten his dad fired and hurt at the station by Jackson. Stiles were pissed off at himself for the fact that he couldn't protect his dad. To make matters worst Scott's mom now knows that her son is a werewolf.

Stiles didn't leave any music on; he didn't want anything to be playing while he did this. To him it was special occasion. He spun it hard, and pressed the gun to his head and pulled the trigger.

_CLICK!_

Nothing again. Stiles bit his lower lip and spun it again. He pressed the gun to his head and pulled the trigger.

_CLICK!_

He gritted his teeth and spun it again. He pressed the gun to his head and pulled the trigger.

_CLICK!_

Stiles almost threw the gun down in frustration. _Why God? I'm a screw-up remember? I got my dad fired!_ He shouted in his head and spun it around one more time. He put the gun to his head.

_CLICK!_

"Ugh. You've got to be kidding me." Stiles said to no one in particular and a voice that oddly sounded like him, replied with a _No, I'm not to be kidding you._ He rolled his eyes, great now he's hearing voices. Then again, hearing voices is bad right? So he ignored it.

The next thing he knows he's sitting on his bed, the gun next to his cell phone, because he found another song to play.

He had gotten beaten up by an old man with cancer, Scott's demented on and off again girlfriend had kidnapped Boyd and Erica, and he had lied to his dad _again_. He had won at lacrosse so he shouldn't be that upset, but he knew it was just a spurt of random crazy luck. He knew he would never be good as Scott and Jackson. Thinking back on the beating, was it bad if he actually enjoyed getting beaten up? Stiles forced that thought down. He wouldn't turn masochistic.

_Sitting in this room playing Russian roulette,_

_Finger on the trigger to my dear Juliet,_

_Out from the window see her back drop silhouette,_

_This blood on my hands is something I cannot forget_

_Sitting in this room playing Russian roulette,_

_Finger on the trigger to my dear Juliet,_

_Out from the window see her back drop silhouette,_

_This blood on my hands is something I cannot forget,_

The lyrics almost made him smile. He was sitting in a room and playing Russian roulette. Maybe it'll be today that he gets to die. Stiles picked up the gun and spun it around hard.

He looked at the gun and placed it to his temple. He was about to pull the trigger, until he heard someone land in his room.

"Stiles. What the fuck do you think you're doing?" He heard Derek snap out. Stiles held his hand out towards him as if to say 'stay right there'. "Put the gun down. Let's talk about this. We can deal with whatever is bothering you." Derek took a step towards Stiles. Stiles pointed at Derek, as if ordering him to stay. The man stayed rooted to his spot.

"It's okay." Stiles said.

_Sitting in this room playing Russian roulette,_

_Finger on the trigger to my dear Juliet,_

_Out from the window see her back drop silhouette,_

_This blood on my hands is something I cannot forget._

The song continued and Stiles pulled the trigger.

_CLICK!_

Derek could feel himself sigh in relief.

"Playing Russian roulette." Stiles answered and press 'pause' to pause the song that's playing.

"That's one in six chances. You could have died." Derek said sitting on the bed next to Stiles.

Stiles shrugged and slide the safety on the gun. "Not the way I play it. I never even put any bullets in it." Stiles opened the carriage and revealed that there weren't any bullets in it. Derek stared at him like he was an idiot.

"Russian roulette?" Derek asked.

Stiles fiddled the gun he was holding. "I picked up the habit since Scott got turned into a werewolf." Stiles frowned. "Why did you come here?"

Derek was still a little shaken by seeing Stiles holding a gun to his head. "Well, there's an Alpha Pack coming." Stiles turned the safety off and spun it around again. He almost sighed, and pressed 'play' on his phone.

_Sitting in this room playing Russian roulette,_

_Finger on the trigger to my dear Juliet,_

_Out from the window see her back drop silhouette_

_This blood on my hands is something I cannot forget._

Stiles held the gun to his temple and pulled the trigger. The click came from the gun and he pressed 'pause' on the phone again. He stood up and left the room to put the gun back where he found it. He returned and walked to his desk, trying to ignore the look at Derek was giving him.

"What do you want me to do?" Stiles asked, trying to keep his voice calm. He was going to act like Derek hadn't walked in on Stiles playing Russian roulette.

"One, never do that again, two never play that game again, and lastly, you have people to talk to when you need to." Derek ordered. Stiles almost rolled his eyes. How could he stop playing Russian roulette?

Stiles wasn't going to go talk to Jackson, Isaac, Erica, Lydia, Boyd, or Scott about him playing Russian roulette. He didn't know Isaac and Boyd that well. He wasn't going to tell Jackson, Erica, or Lydia about him playing Russian roulette because they're jerks, and might make fun of him for that. He didn't want to burden Scott with any of his problems. He just hoped Derek understood that.

Stiles shoved that away. "What should I look up?" Derek gave him a strange look, but ended up telling Stiles what to look up.

Derek wasn't going to push Stiles into talking. Whatever the hell Stiles was going through, he would be there to at least to try to help. All Derek needed to do was get that gun away from Stiles, and then he can help the kid find a way to heal without the use of the gun near his head.

* * *

A/N: I don't own Last Resort by Papa Roach and I don't own Not Good Enough For The Truth In Cliché by Escape the Fate. Those songs seemed to Stiles' mood when he's holding the gun to his head.

I just had the idea of Stiles playing Russian roulette in my head. Again, the idea of not having bullets in the gun seemed to fit too.

I however believe that Stiles wouldn't just instantly become good friends with Erica and Isaac if he's in Derek's Pack because of the way Erica treated him and the way Isaac just asked him 'how can he live' not direct quote. Also how can the pack accept Alison after the things that she put them through anyway after she 'changed'? But that's my opinion.

Originally Stiles was going to find out that Derek and Erica were mates, so Stiles holds the gun to his head and pulls the trigger to get nothing, because he feels like he has nobody to love. But it just didn't work.

Sorry there's not much dialogue in this, even for Stiles.


End file.
